


Thunderstorms

by Ellie226



Series: The Community [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, Eating Disorder Referenced, F/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-28 07:14:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19389127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: Ben doesn't care for storms.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? A mid-week update! I really shouldn't be on doing this, but I've been working to finish up some stories.
> 
> This story takes place during Matt, Emily, and Ben.

Ben’s POV

My crib had a window. Not all of the cribs in the community did, but at Uncle Matt’s house, the wall behind the crib had a window. I liked that. At night, when I couldn’t sleep, I could look out the window and see the stars. And in the morning, the sun woke me up. There were curtains, but I never used them.

It was a nice window. Usually. Not right now. It was raining, and normally, I liked the rain. I liked watching the patterns it made on the glass and listening to the sound of it against the window.

I did not like the lightning or the thunder, and that’s what I was watching right now. Part of me thought I should turn my back to the window, maybe close the curtains, but I didn’t want to not be able to see it. 

So I scrunched myself up against the crib bars, as far from the window as I could get, and I hugged Owlie and rubbed my fuzzy blanket against my lip. It was okay. It was just a storm. 

The bars were up, but I could lower them if I needed to. Except I didn’t need to. Daddy used to get so mad at me, when I would get out of my crib at night. He would smack me and yell about staying where I was told.

Uncle Matt didn’t do that stuff. He was nice. He sometimes swatted, but he was still nice. He wouldn’t slap my face the way Daddy David used to.

He even said that I should get out of my crib, if I needed something. He left me with ice water in my sippy cup every night, but I was allowed to get up if I needed to go potty or something. I just didn’t think being afraid of a thunderstorm was really needing to get out of my crib.

Daddy David hated when we had thunderstorms. He said I ruined them because I acted like a baby. At first, when we had only just started, I would try to cuddle up on his lap when it was too scary. He didn’t like that.

Pressing myself back against the bars so hard that it hurt, I resolved to be brave. I didn’t want Uncle Matt to see what a baby I was.

Matt’s POV

The thunder woke me up. It always woke me up because combining Emily and rainstorms was dangerous. Unless she was completely and wholly asleep, it took a lot to keep her indoors. 

Luckily for me, she was very much asleep today, and I relaxed for a minute, watching the lightning flashes before deciding that I should get up and get something to drink. I could peek in on Ben, and then I’d come back to bed.

Ducking my head in the nursery, I initially thought Ben was sleeping. He wasn’t moving, at least. Then, I heard the whimper.

“Ben?” I said quietly.

The little boy jumped and let out a surprised squeal.

"It's okay, peanut," I soothed, walking over to the crib to figure out what had him awake.

"Sorry," he said softly, rolling onto his back. "I'm sleeping, Uncle Matt."

"That's a funny way to do it," I commented with a grin.

His eyes were so wide right now, and he was practically humming with energy, toes wiggling and free hand twisting his curls up.

"I just woke up a little," he explained. "I'm going back to sleep. Night time is for sleeping."

He was just slightly robotic as he told me that, and I nodded, letting down the crib and reaching for him as I said, "I'm going to make some warm milk, I think. How about you keep me company?"

His body was still stiff, but he pressed against me, hugging me tightly around the neck and twining his legs around my waist.

Nodding he rested his head on my shoulder, "Yes, sir."

"Uncle Matt," I calmly reminded, grabbing Owlie and his blanket.

"Yes, Uncle Matt," he corrected.

I carried him down the hallway, peeking in on my wife to make sure she was well and truly asleep still. Once I was sure of it, I quietly closed the door, and then carried Ben downstairs.

"Let's see," I murmured quietly, taking things from the cupboards and the refrigerator. Ben wasn't talking, and I felt like I needed to fill the silence.

We'd talked about David wanting the house quiet, and that wasn't a rule here. When he was upset though, the differences between our homes was hard for him to remember.

"We need milk, sugar, vanilla," I recited, grabbing a pan. "Am I forgetting anything, peanut?"

Ben had his thumb in his mouth, but he answered around it, "Nutmeg."

"That's my smart boy," I praised. "Could you grate the nutmeg for me?"

He froze for a minute before nodding slightly, and I set him down on one of the stools, finding the nutmeg and the microplane along with a small bowl.

"Just the nutmeg," I reminded, before handing everything over. "No fingers, please."

The kitchen made him clumsy. He was already like an overgrown puppy, tripping or dropping things, but we had more accidents with the kitchen than anything else. In spite of that, it seemed important that he know how to do these things. 

I wanted to help him find a daddy, or at least, part of me did. Although my heart ached at the thought of him leaving us. That was selfish. 

I'd already spoken with Charlotte about it, and she had plans as to how we would find someone. Regardless, I never wanted him to feel like he didn't have other options. If there came a point where he didn't want to live with a daddy, but he no longer wanted to be here, it was important that he know how to take care of himself well enough to get by. 

So there were cooking lessons, and he was coming along. He was already very good at other chores, vacuuming and dusting and putting things away. With that, it was more of an issue of getting him to stop. We'd just added in helping me pay bills online, and we were talking about him starting a GED program.

He was making progress. Huge amounts of progress. He rarely flinched when we reached for him, and his sweet little personality seemed to just be who he was, not based in fear anymore.

I thought about how much Emily and I would both miss him when he moved out as I made the warm milk. I didn’t think it would be soon, but I wanted to talk with Charlotte some more about the plan. He was such a sweetheart, and any family would be lucky to have him.

“It’s grated, Uncle Matt,” he said, bringing the small bowl to me. “That’s enough?”

“We’re good, peanut,” I spared an arm to hug him, mixing the nutmeg in to the slowly warming milk. 

He stayed against me, watching as I finished the milk up and poured it into mugs for us. Ben carried his over to the big chair, and I followed, allowing him to settle onto my lap so we could both drink easily.

“Good?” I asked, playing with his hair with my free hand.

He nodded, snuggling against me, and I let him sip slowly, finishing about half before I asked, “What woke you up, peanut?”


	2. Chapter 2

Ben’s POV

I shrugged, unsurprised when he patted my hip gently and admonished, “I don’t understand that, little mister. You’re not in any trouble, and you can’t get me upset. I just want to know what woke you up so I can help.”

It was still hard to trust him when he said things like that. Sometimes, especially at first, Daddy David would be fake-y nice. It felt like nice, but he’d get mad so fast...even though Uncle Matt had never done that, and Emily kept saying that real big people didn’t, it made me a little scared to talk.

“It’s alright,” Uncle Matt told me. “We can just sit here a bit and drink our milk.”

He let me snuggle against him and played with my hair, and I felt myself getting sleepier as we sat there, until I let out a big yawn.

That made Uncle Matt snuggle me even more, and he murmured, “Seems like I’ve got a sleepy boy on my hands again. Are you sure there’s nothing I should know before I put you back in your bed, peanut? I don’t want you just laying there, upset, if I can help.”

It was so nice and quiet down here, just the two of us. I could a little bit pretend that Uncle Matt was my daddy. And he wouldn’t make me go back to bed right away if I told him. We could have a little more time together like this. It was so nice.

“I don’t like the storms,” I whispered, my desire to imagine this as my whole life outweighing my fear. 

“Hmmm,” he made a noise. “Em loves them.”

That was Em. She was wild and smart and pretty, and she never acted like a baby about stuff. She didn’t get scared. 

“Kind of nice that I’m not chasing you back inside,” he mused.

I sat up at that, looking at him, “She don’t even stay inside? She’s not scared at all?”

“Nope,” he smiled at me. “She’s a menace about storms, likes to go outside and dance in the rain like a little witch.”

Matt’s POV

Ben looked a little troubled by that, and I took a guess, “She’s afraid of other stuff though, things that maybe you aren’t scared of.”

“Like what?” he asked, curling back against my chest so he could play with my shirt.

“Hmmm,” I made a show of thinking, finally saying, “she hates bees. Wasps. Anything that stings or bites, really. And needles.”

“Food,” he offered, seeming to be very focused on the pattern on my tee-shirt as he said that. “She gets funny about food sometimes.”

I nodded, keeping my tone very matter of fact as I said, “Yeah, Em’s got some trouble with food that she has to work on very hard, the way that you have some trouble with trusting people that you work on.”

“I’m not scared of food,” he said.

“No, you’re a good eater,” I agreed. I knew where it came from. Years of not knowing where his next meal was coming from. The same way I knew where his fears of people came from. 

He didn’t say anything else, and I told him, “Everybody has stuff they’re afraid of Ben. Some of it is stuff we have to work on to be happy and healthy, like being able to eat or be around other people. Other stuff is just a funny quirk that you can leave alone if it doesn’t bother you. Being afraid of thunderstorms or bees is like that.”

“You’re not mad?” he asked, after I stayed quiet for a while.

“‘Bout what, peanut?” wanting him to verbalize what had him so tense. 

“Me being a baby about storms and not staying in my crib so you gotta get up too?”

“Well, I got you out of your crib,” I told him. “And, you can always get up if you need me at night, Ben. If I don’t come and get you, you can come and wake me up. I was already up, and I wanted a drink. I kind of like having a midnight drink buddy. It’s nice and quiet down here, and you give excellent cuddles. I like having a baby in the house. Especially one as adorable as you.”

“Em’s adorable,” he told me. “Just make her be your baby and cuddle.”

I shook my head, patiently explaining for what felt like the millionth time, “We don’t make people do that in our house. Cuddles and hugs and kisses...any touching has to be something everybody wants. And I would never make someone be bigger or littler than they want.”

“But you’re the daddy,” he reminded me, sitting up. 

This was definitely something we’d talked about before, and I made sure that I was patient but firm as I explained, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’d make someone do something they didn’t want. Emily can always safe word, and she knows that. A good big person doesn’t make a little do something just because the big person wants.”

He looked skeptical, but I knew that this conversation was one we’d have many times before it really stuck.

Realizing that the thunderstorm sounded like it was over, I cuddled him for a few more minutes before I suggested, “Shall we go back to bed?”

He nodded, looking sleepy again, and I quickly set the mugs down on the table and stood up, lifting him onto my hip.

“Shall I carry you?” I asked, kissing his cheek.

He giggled and snuggled against me, thumb creeping to his mouth, and he didn’t object, so I left the mugs where they were and carried him up the stairs, getting him re-settled in the crib before returning to Emily.

It had been nice, having that quiet time with Ben, and I found myself hoping that the weather wasn’t going to be too nice in the forseeable future. It would be nice to snuggle and talk again.


End file.
